


Take a Ride

by BansheeLydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Car Accidents, Dad Vernon Boyd, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9353891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/pseuds/BansheeLydia
Summary: “What the hell is a Boyd?” Stiles grinned when Boyd snorted. “Thanks for…you know, everything, Boyd. I’m Stiles.”“What the hell is a Stiles?”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fuchs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuchs/gifts).



Stiles loved his Jeep. He really, really did. Roscoe was his first and only car and she’d done well, only letting him down once or twice in the six years he’d owned her. 

But it was times like this, 8am on a Monday with rain pissing down and an appointment to get to, that Stiles found his love for his Jeep tested. He tried the engine again and groaned when it failed to start, dropping his head against the steering wheel with a painful thunk. Roscoe had been acting up lately, but it looked like she’d finally given up the ghost.

He lifted his head after a moment of wallowing in despair, squinting through the windshield at the rain thundering against the sidewalk. His dad was on shift, so he couldn’t call him for a ride. He could call Scott, but it’d take him at least half an hour to pick him up, so by the time they got to town he’d have missed his appointment. He could always –

His gaze drifted to the garage and his nose scrunched up in resignation. He climbed out, locking up, and sprinted back inside the house, swapping his sweatshirt for his dad’s heavy rain jacket before heading out into the garage.

His old bike was in its usual place, tucked into a corner of the garage and surrounded by other junk that never got used and that they never got round to getting rid of. He kicked a box of old CD’s out of the way and pushed the bike out away from the wall. He hadn’t used it in years; as soon as his dad had handed him the keys to his Jeep, the bike had been relegated to the garage and had been there ever since. The last time he’d used it properly was riding to school with Scott and that felt like an eternity ago. 

He wiped dust off the seat and pushed it out of the garage, shutting the door behind him. He tried the bell, just for kicks, and climbed on, peddling down the drive. He wobbled just for a second before he got used to it and set off. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, riding a bike in the rain; he had to swipe at his face every few seconds to get rain out of his eyes and he ended up splashing through puddles on the side of the road, soaking his jeans. He definitely missed his Jeep when he had to peddle up a hill. But the second he got over the crest and sailed downhill, he remembered how fun it had been doing this with Scott, and he grinned slightly as the wind whistled past his ears and the rain stung his face. 

He’d just reached the bottom of the hill when a streak of orange shot in front of him. He cursed, yanking on the handlebars to swerve, and cursed louder when the bike overturned and skidded across the road, dragging him down with it. His head whipped back and there was a flash of pain as his skull cracked against the road, and then – nothing.

-:-

The first thing Stiles was aware of was pain. A hot, throbbing pain in the back of his skull and he groaned, shifting slightly.

It was then that he felt the cold and wet seeping through his clothes and he shivered. He was lying on something hard and gritty and when he dared open his eyes, squinting for a second as his headache flared, all he could see for a moment was dark storm clouds. Then he focused, rolling his head slightly to look at the man sitting beside him. 

He was fucking gorgeous, wearing an obnoxiously orange sweater and shorts, with what looked like a ball of fluff that matched his jumper on his lap. 

It took Stiles a second to speak.

“What the fuck?”

One eyebrow rose and Stiles just stared, kind of amazed. He took in the stunning dark eyes and muscles and gentle smile and wondered aloud, “Am I hallucinating? Did I hit my head that hard? Because you’ve gotta be the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

The guy flashed a brilliant smile, flashing perfect teeth, and if Stiles wasn’t feeling kind of fuzzy, he’d be swooning. Instead, he managed a smile back, wanting to make the other man smile again just to see that warmth in his eyes.

“How are you feeling? You were only out for a minute or so, but that was a pretty rough fall.”

Stiles blinked a little, going over the question again in his head before he managed to answer. “Uh…my head is…not so good. What happened?”

The orange ball on the guy’s lap wriggled and got to its feet, darting off. He glanced after the cat, then back at Stiles, looking a little sheepish.

“Bob got kind of spooked from the storm and ran out into the road. I was gonna grab her and I saw you swerve and fall. You were knocked out, so I dragged you off the road and rang an ambulance. It’s on its way, but maybe don’t move? I can run in and grab an umbrella…” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards one of the houses lining the street.

Stiles decided to count himself lucky that he was unconscious while he was dragged off onto the sidewalk. He felt embarrassed enough as it was.

“I think keeping dry is kind of a lost cause.” Stiles replied, then looked up. “Bob?”

Another grin and Stiles totally swooned this time. “My son kept calling him it and it kinda stuck.”

Stiles shifted slightly, sitting up, feeling stupid just lying on the sidewalk. But the stranger had stayed with him, also sitting out in the rain, and that was…kind of really sweet. Stiles felt warm despite the rain. They sat, quietly, for a second, before Stiles checked him out again.

“Who wears shorts in a storm?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Laundry day.” He replied dryly. “Who rides a bike in a storm?”

Stiles smiled. “Jeep crapped out.” He could hear the ambulance and his chest squeezed; despite how much he hurt, despite the storm, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this stranger. “What’s your name?”

“Boyd.”

“What the hell is a Boyd?” Stiles grinned when Boyd snorted. “Thanks for…you know, everything, Boyd. I’m Stiles.”

“What the hell is a Stiles?”

Oh hell, Stiles was pretty sure he was in love. He smiled, heart fluttering when Boyd grinned back, and actually felt disappointed when the ambulance pulled up next to them. Boyd moved out of the way, but didn’t go inside, and that made Stiles feel kinda brave. So as he was loaded into the back of the ambulance, he quickly called out:

“Stilinski – Stiles Stilinski. Come visit me?”

Boyd looked surprised and for a moment, Stiles thought he was going to shake his head and go inside. Instead, he smiled and nodded, and Stiles smiled back until the doors closed. 

-:-

Stiles picked at a loose thread on his jeans.

He’d been at the hospital for a couple of hours. The head injury wasn’t serious, but he’d been given painkillers to help with the headache. He’d had an x ray on his arm and was waiting for the results to check there was no break or fracture; meanwhile, it had been put up in a sling. 

His clothes had started to dry now he was indoors in the warmth, but he was still kinda cold, and he kept glancing at the clock, worried that Boyd had changed his mind.

His dad and Scott had already swung by, his dad rolling his eyes in exasperation at how Stiles had landed himself in hospital. He’d given him a hug, though, before heading back to work, and Scott had promised to stick around to give Stiles a ride home. His bike had been picked up and taken to the police station, but Stiles planned on getting rid of the damn thing anyway. Surprisingly, his old Jeep was actually safer.

Scott had disappeared to get coffee and food and Stiles shifted slightly, looking out of the window at the rain. The storm was at its peak, thunder rumbling, and Stiles closed his eyes, letting the sound soothe him. 

When he opened them again, he wasn’t alone.

“Holy -!” He stopped, then smiled. “Boyd. You actually came.”

Boyd had changed and he was holding a bouquet of flowers. He set them on the bed, smiling. “Well, I figured since this was a little bit my fault, I figured I owe you an apology.”

Stiles picked up the flower, smelling them. It was such a sweet gesture and his heart fluttered. He grinned, meeting Boyd’s gaze.

“You know, if you wanted to apologize…you could always take me out for coffee.”

Boyd laughed, loud and bright, and leaned casually against the bed, body close enough to Stiles’ for him to feel his warmth.

“I’m free Friday.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently accepting prompts at allirica.tumblr.com


End file.
